


Tied Up in the Tap Room (the Les Jizzerables Episode Six Remix)

by Jehane



Category: Les Misérables RPF
Genre: Character hits head and wakes up in porn movie version of their life, Filming, M/M, Method Porn Acting, Porn Star AU, Porn Star Royalty, Rope Bondage, method acting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 17:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20746019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jehane/pseuds/Jehane
Summary: This just in inPORN TIMES: Notorious powertop Dominic West continues to bottom in Shankland’s newLes Jizzerables!





	Tied Up in the Tap Room (the Les Jizzerables Episode Six Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Esteliel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esteliel/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Les Jizzerables](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18538234) by [Esteliel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esteliel/pseuds/Esteliel). 
  * In response to a prompt by [Esteliel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esteliel/pseuds/Esteliel) in the [2019remixrevivalmadness](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/2019remixrevivalmadness) collection. 

They’d been at it for the better part of an hour. David’s arms were beginning to ache from over-use, and that wasn’t _at all_ the body part he’d been anticipating using for this scene.

Emelia, the patient on-set makeup standby, sprayed mist onto his bare torso. Not that David’s torso needed more misting — an hour under the hot lighting of their wine shop set at the height of Sedan summer and David felt genuine sweat trickle down his pectorals. 

At least he had the luxury of being only partially clothed. He felt a moment of almost-sympathy for his other cast-mates, who were fully dressed for a distinctly fashionable Parisian revolution in long-sleeved shirts and period waistcoats and tight breeches, and boots of thick embossed leather. Turlough had been perspiring for half an hour, and by now it was definitely not the sexy kind of perspiration. 

Perspiration aside, Andrew had made it very clear: this show would spare no expense on its historical, on-location sets and authentic 1830s wardrobe. 

An adult period drama winning awards for best costume? Stranger things had happened.

The lights dimmed and then ramped up again. The sweaty, historically-accurate crowd took up their positions, Archie and Daniel seizing him by the biceps and lashing him to the post for the seventh or the seventeenth time, David couldn’t even keep track anymore.

“And action,” Tom called, off camera.

  


_...The angry murmurs rose in the thick, close air of the tap room; the old floorboards creaked menacingly as the rebels advanced, fearful and hostile. Chief Inspector Javert lifted his chin proudly at the approach of a slender twink, who was dressed in a shamelessly open-necked white shirt, and missing both his jacket and his cravat._

_“Where is he?” Javert said, savagely._

_“Who?”_

_“Your leader! Jean Valjean!”_

_The twink said, “Never heard of him, Inspector. Uh, we know nobody at all like that.”_

  


“And _cut_,” said Tom, in disgusted tones, and the lights dimmed for the seventh or seventeenth time. “Jesus, Joe, the line’s _We know no leaders here_, how difficult is that?”

“I know, I know,” muttered Joseph, the newcomer who played Enjolras. He ran a shaking hand through his coiffed hair. Tom had privately assured David that Joseph was ready for the big leagues, but David hadn’t been convinced — playing Random Soldier Bottom in _Game of Thrones: Sexposition is Coming_ was one thing, and stepping out as the charismatic and also sexy leader of the June Rebellion was quite another.

“What’s gotten into you guys today?” Tom demanded, crossly, walking onto the set as the lighting and sound grips began to stand down again. “First Daniel, and now you. At this rate, no one is going to make Javert bottom while we still have daylight on today’s shoot. David’s been hanging around all afternoon without even getting his kit off!”

David tried not to roll his eyes as Joseph began to fidget, a bead of sweat trickling from that coiffed curly hairline. The lad wasn’t bad looking, and David recalled that the rear end currently on display in those barricade breeches was quite a memorable one, but this was why you didn’t hire the first cute extra that ever fucked on the adult Game of Thrones franchise before first making sure they could string actual dialogue together. 

The somewhat maligned Daniel came to Joseph’s rescue. Though he’d never worked with David before this, Daniel was an old hand in the business — which meant he didn’t have Joe’s newbie excuse for the slip-ups he’d been making all afternoon.

“I think that’s the problem, chief.” He gestured vaguely in David’s direction without meeting David’s eyes. “If it’s going to be like this when David’s only got his shirt off, we might not hold it together when it comes down to the wire. You’ve got to admit, the man’s a legend in the field.”

“A legend in the field?” Tom said, incredulously, as heads around them started nodding vigorously. “Let me get this straight. You lot have been messing up because David Oyelowo’s _porn star royalty_?”

Truth be told, David was a little surprised himself. He liked to think he had a healthy belief in his own abilities — after all, he’d been working steadily since his British Adult Film and TV Association’s Best Newcomer award for his role on the BBC S(i)x’s adult drama series _Cocks_, and since then he had been crowned with a host of other awards, from AVN’s Best Scene, to XCRO’s Best Actor (Single Performance) — three times — to his favourite, King of NightMoves for his work in _XXXELMA_. Last year he’d even been invited to join the _Hot d’Or_ Hall of Fame even though his French was only passable (“You fuck in French, _cheri_,” his Parisian agent had assured him, which hadn’t actually been that reassuring). 

But this was the first time he’d put fellow professionals off their game, or at least the first time they’d admitted to it.

“Sounds like someone has a wee crush,” Enzo remarked slyly, from the sidelines. Rivette wasn’t in the barricade gangbang scene, unfortunately, but for some reason Enzo seemed to have found himself on set anyway.

“Fuck off, mate,” Daniel said, uncomfortably. “If anyone has a crush on Javert, it’s you, am I right?”

“Rivette might have a crush, but it sounds like Daniel has performance anxiety,” Enzo said tauntingly, and Tom had to intervene as his enraged Despiat charged across the set to put Rivette in a headlock that wasn’t at all the sexy kind.

“Lads, for God’s sake, get it together. Sexy, but classy, remember? We’re _Les Jizzerables_, not _Cap’n Mungo’s Porno Playhouse_!”

David couldn’t help saying, “Can’t help it if the boys all want me to top.” He knew the note of smugness in his voice wasn’t helpful, particularly for getting Javert tag-teamed in this barricade scene, but it was quite gratifying to know his star power had not gone unnoticed.

Or perhaps it was _Javert’s_ star power. David was classically trained, after all, it was one of the things _Hot d’Or_ recognised about him, and he’d brought his Method acting techniques to the _Les Jizzerables_ set. He’d not thought he would get off on playing the villain, but the more he immersed himself into character as implacable, ambitious dungeon dom Chief Inspector Javert, the more enjoyable he had to admit it was.

As the reluctant murmurs of assent rippled across the crowded set, there came the sound of meaningful throat-clearing, pitched to carry. Heads turned, and a familiar voice rang out, “Did I hear someone ask for Jean Valjean?”

Well, well. Who should stride out of the darkness onto the floorboards of their tap room scene but Dominic West, in full costume as Jean Valjean: broad-shouldered and handsome, with mutton-chop sideburns that he wore even better than Hugh Jackman, holding a cocked pistol in his hand that David hoped was indicative of the state of the weapon currently hidden underneath those tight albeit historically-accurate pants. He was also jacket-less, like the degenerates on the barricade, and wearing a waistcoat that bizarrely laced up at the back, which could only be good for one thing.

David wouldn’t count himself a fan, precisely. Of course he had admired the man’s ground-breaking work as Officer McNutsy in transatlantic hit _The Wank-Off_, as well as his versatility as an all-comers performer in _The Extremely Hardcore Affair_. Also, it was almost impossible to ignore the most sculpted arse in the business — this was the arse that WHACK! Magazine had crowned Best Buns four years in a row. However, his interest in Dominic’s career was strictly professional.

Besides, for all his prowess as one of the adult industry’s most notorious tops, the man had been surprisingly vulnerable as a bottom. He’d actually fainted during his guard room scene, and while David wasn’t above congratulating himself over having made a co-star pass out from too much dick, it had made the subsequent days of shooting rather difficult, because Tom and the others had started treating said co-star as if he was made of spun glass. He had taken direction well enough during the Porntreuil-sur-Mer scenes, but after they started shooting on the barricades, the man had pleaded a headache and had stayed in his trailer for the last day or so. 

David had privately wondered whether Dominic had been nervous because he was scheduled to top again, or because of the tap room rope bondage. Some performers didn’t take well to flip-fucks or to kink scenes. Trust the big, bad powertop Dominic “Steel Buns” West to have a secret Achilles heel that could derail their entire shooting schedule.

Still, he was here now, reporting for duty at a time when no one else seemed to be up to scratch.

Dominic walked over to Tom and stood toe to toe with their director; David saw Tom had to swallow hard, and it wasn’t from nervousness. 

“Give the police spy to me. I’ll show you how it’s done,” he said, quietly, in tones fit to make all the subs onset shiver with anticipation.

“Fuck, looks like Dom’s finally caught the Method acting bug from you,” Archie breathed admiringly in David’s ear. David shivered as well, which was when realised he was still tied to the pillar — with period-compliant ropes rather than the usual Velcro. 

Tom shook himself out of what seemed to be a glaze generated by Dominic’s sexual magnetism. “Fine, fine – let’s roll with it, next scene!” He scrambled off the set and waved the crew and grips and cast members into position. Archie jumped away from the pillar as if he’d been shot, leaving David alone in his corner. 

“On your line again — great line, by the way. Joe, you’re on your mark over there — and, action!”

The lights came up again. Dominic said his line, and Joseph, thanks to the current lack of nips in close proximity, tossed back his word-perfect, “I don’t see why not. The man’s yours.” 

Dominic nodded — _Valjean_ nodded — and he turned towards the corner where Javert stood bound and helpless. He tugged his blue cravat and collar loose, his expression shuttered and full of conflict. Then he hesitated, the pistol cocked in one large hand, his mouth quivering with some hidden emotion.

Oh, for — surely Dominic had been up close and personal with David’s porn star royalty enough times by now? Or was there some other difficulty at play here? 

One more beat, and then Dominic’s eyes hardened and his free hand dropped to his trousers, opening them at last to reveal his cock. His _rock-hard_ cock. 

Thank fuck, at least Porn Valjean had come to work prepared.

“Go on, then,” David said, more enthusiastically than he’d initially planned. Relief was clearly throwing him off his own game. “Take your opportunity.”

“I’m planning on doing that,” Dominic said slowly. He put the pistol on the shelf nearby, and pulled out a knife from his belt. His muscles bunched attractively under the fabric of his shirt, which could open only so far before it was impeded by his inopportunely backward-laced waistcoat.

“Oh yes, a blade would be more your style,” David commented, absently. The knife was large and appropriately wicked-looking, but it was dwarfed by the other impressive weapon that Dominic was currently also pointing in his direction.

Dominic reached for David’s period trousers and made a show of slicing slowly through the flaps and then the built-in seams. David tried not to groan as Dominic finally ripped open his pants and tugged him free at last. The cool air was a godsend against his superheated flesh, but the friction from Dominic’s large hand was even better.

“You’ll never get away with this, convict! This is the sort of man you are, the sort of man you’ll always be!”

“Shut your mouth,” Dominic said, licking his palm and then curling his fingers around David’s cock. It felt astoundingly good after the long afternoon of frustration; David’s knees almost buckled with relief.

The pleasure was so sharp that David didn’t immediately realise he’d stopped thinking of Dominic as Valjean, and himself as Javert.

Frowning, David tried to re-centre himself in character and to channel the menacing large-dick energy that the scene called for — the battle for dominance between these two arch-nemeses — but for some reason he was finding it impossible. 

Fortunately ignorant of David’s sudden difficulties, Dominic had taken hold of both his erection and David’s and was jerking them together slowly in one loose fist. The smell of heat and sweat surrounded them both. Standing so close to his co-star, and face to face for once, David could feel the flutter of Dominic’s eyelashes, could see the golden motes in Dominic’s dark eyes, could almost taste the salt on Dominic’s bare skin... Then Dominic changed his grip, and David found himself making the sort of high-pitched moaning sounds that only rookies made on their first bottom outing.

“I said, quiet, or they’ll hear you on the barricade,” Dominic panted, continuing to stroke. His breath was coming unevenly as well; clearly his Valjean was also affected by the intensity of whatever had beset David in this scene and was making the sex suddenly, powerfully personal. There was something raw and open in his handsome face that no veteran of the profession should ever display — David felt the intimacy undoing more than just his already long-discarded costume. 

“You’ll never take me alive,” David groaned, fighting to stick to the script. “You’d better kill me now.” He was perilously, humiliatingly close to coming. Unlike other actors, he’d never had to resort to cock-rings or to rubbing one out before a scene, but he was in enough danger that he almost wished he’d indulged in the morning — whether the reason was the afternoon of frustration thanks to his ridiculous star-struck cast-mates, or this sudden inexplicable fixation on Dominic West, the result was very soon going to be complete embarrassment.

Just when David was going to throw his pride to the wind and call for a time-out, Dominic let him go. David leaned back against the pillar, struggling for breath, as Dominic sawed through the ropes that bound him. 

Then he struggled out of his own trousers, and presented David with his incomparable arse.

“What are you doing?” The script for this scene required Dominic to flip David around and shag him senseless against the pillar, not to array himself across the tap room table like the most alluring vintage in all of Paris. But Tom didn’t call an end to the scene — the cameras kept rolling, the atmosphere crackled, and the world narrowed down to just the two of them. 

“Do it, before I change my mind,” the man ground out, and David needed no second telling. He lunged forwards, grabbed his co-star by the suddenly very conveniently-placed laces of his waistcoat, and did his best to be worthy of those award-winning buns.

It felt like the first time they’d done this, with the chains in the guard room on their Sedan set. David had affected Javert’s casual menace and effortless dominance, though of course he’d appreciated what an event it must have been for Dominic — giving up his power for the first time, submitting to Javert, letting David break his famous arse in like it was an unruly stallion.

“Why are you doing this?” David panted into Dominic’s ear. Having this powerful, muscular body at his disposal was a heady drug that he could easily get accustomed to. By the noises he was making, it sounded like Dominic was rapidly falling for the same drug himself, which was the only reason David could think of for Dominic’s choosing to go this way with the scene. 

In response, Dominic rolled his hips, and David’s eyes nearly rolled back in his head. “I’m doing it because I want to,” he murmured. “I’ve no reason to harm you. You’ve nothing to fear from me, I won’t resist you.”

And there it was: a surrender that was irresistible. Valjean surrendering to Javert, Dominic to the secret bottoming desires of his soul, and it was unravelling David from the inside.

“Aren’t you going to take your revenge?” David panted. He was covered in sweat, his voice was shaking — he knew he sounded like Javert would have if he was already derailing, balls deep inside Valjean’s tight, hot hole.

Dominic turned his head and captured David’s mouth in a searing kiss. “This is my revenge,” he whispered against David’s lips, surprisingly still in character. “I’m turning myself in to the hard rod of the law.” 

David wasn’t sure he could remember his own lines; all he could think about was that this was probably how obsessed Javert had felt when he’d commissioned wanted posters of one man’s face and singular behind and put them up all over Paris.

“This makes no sense,” he gasped, at last, and Dominic redoubled his efforts, riding David’s dick with the skill that was only to be expected of such a celebrated porn star. 

Dominic murmured, in that throaty porn star voice, “It does; it means you’re free —“ 

His arse muscles clenched around David’s achingly hard cock, and that was all it took to make David come so hard that the lights and the crumbling tap room set and the crew all slid away from him into a gathering whirl of darkness…

  
  
  


When he finally surfaced back into consciousness, he was resting on a couch, a blanket over his legs, and there was a pain in his head that mirrored the ache in his other head. 

Tom was sitting on a chair by his side, looking worried. At the foot of the couch, Dominic was lounging in a silk dressing gown that was sliding off one shoulder and making amply obvious that its wearer was entirely naked underneath it. 

"There you are," Tom said, pushing a bottle of water into his hand. "With both of you having multiple fainting spells on set, our insurance premiums are going to go through the roof."

"No fear of that,” Dominic drawled, intercepting the water and taking a long swig. “I’ll sort it out with the insurers, like I always do. With my dick.”

David frowned, sitting up and reaching for the bottle. “Mind sharing that?” he enquired coldly. He couldn’t help bristling a little at Dominic’s sudden inconsideration. After all, it had been his turn to be overwhelmed by the pleasures of Dominic’s arse, and it would have been polite of Dominic to at least feign some gallant concern, even if he didn’t truly care. 

Dominic held the bottle out of David’s reach. His eyes gleamed with a cheerful callousness that struck David as strangely unfamiliar. “What, like you’re the only one needing to be pampered? It seems I fainted too, again, and right after you did! Only my recovery time’s better than yours, like my refractory period, and coincidentally many other things about me as well.” 

“You fainted?” David asked curiously, setting the ruffled feathers to one side. “Again? What happened this time?”

“Hello, I was unconscious? So of course I couldn’t say. But I will tell you, I had the wildest dream while I was out of it with your dick in my arse.” Dominic waved his arms, and the dressing gown slid lower, exposing his hairy, muscled chest. “I dreamed we were shooting an actual period drama. A miniseries for BBC One! And that Javert wasn’t _you_ you, he was played by a real Shakespearean actor, who’d won BAFTAs and who’d starred opposite Sir Alan Bates and who had four kids with the same woman. Isn’t that a trip?”

David thought about this. It did boggle the mind. He’d never wanted to be anything other than what he was, and pursue the profession he’d made his life’s work.

Then again, there was a small part of him that wondered about the Dominic that might have lived in that dream world. Perhaps he’d also be a stage actor, with Shakespearean roles and children under his belt; perhaps he’d never been near an adult movie set, let alone ever read PORN TIMES, or counted porn stars among his acquaintances.

What would such a man be like — would he be similar to this veteran of the adult film industry who was even now trying to squeeze onto his couch and rub his foot against David’s crotch, or would he be different? 

David had no idea, but something told him he might be interested in finding out the truth.

**Author's Note:**

> ...unbetaed, because I couldn't subject the usual suspects to this ridiculousness. "Porntreuil-sur-Mer" is stolen shamelessly, I mean, borrowed, with much gratitude, from yet another resident in RPF Hell ;)


End file.
